


shadow

by princeollie



Series: locals only [1]
Category: Tiny Meat Gang (Band)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M, noel is a superhero, superhero au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-07 20:22:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18880564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princeollie/pseuds/princeollie
Summary: cody comes home and finds his hero bleeding out in his kitchen





	shadow

**Author's Note:**

> my first tmg fic. enjoy.
> 
> i pretty much have a strict 'no fic about real people' rule. but whatever. i think this characterization is different enough that i can just say that all they have in common is the names. w/e.
> 
> i don't mention noel by name. just by a superhero name which is flex. i couldn't think of a cool name. so i just went with one based on his music. i could've gone with woodworm but went with something based off no flex instead.

There’s something wrong. 

Cody left the window open when he left, but just a crack, he remembers that. It was just open enough to let the cold breeze in but now it’s wide open. Things on the table are thrown across the room and there’s broken glass. From the flower vase? Or maybe the window, he can’t tell, it’s too dark. Even the light from the moon isn’t enough.

He reaches for his phone in his pocket. He should call 911. His phone’s at 4%. He should’ve charged it before he left but he forgot and he was already late. Hopefully, it’ll be enough to phone an ambulance. His fingers hover over the screen but the phone goes black before he even gets the chance to unlock it. Cody hears a groan but it’s not from him.

It’s coming from the kitchen.

Cody should probably go to his neighbour’s to use the phone. He shouldn’t stay. He knows this. It could be someone dangerous. A murderer, maybe. But his Canadian sensibility gets the better of him. 

He approaches slowly. The only thing he could use as a possible weapon is his phone. What good that’ll do. It’s still too dark to see but his eyes are adjusting. There’s a dark shadow on the floor leaning against his oven. The shadow reacts. It must’ve seen Cody. It groans again and moves toward Cody. 

He should run. He should move. But he can’t. He drops his phone. No more weapon.

Cody’s eyes are adjusted now and he sees that the shadow isn’t a shadow- it’s a person. It’s a man. It’s Flex. And he’s shot. Cody can see the blood everywhere. The source: Flex’s left shoulder. He’s holding one of Cody’s kitchen towels to his shoulder and he looks like he’s about to pass out.

Cody’s no longer scared about being hurt but he’s scared for Flex. Flex has been saving the streets of LA for a year now and he’s Cody’s hero. He’s everyone’s hero but Cody can’t help but declare himself his biggest fan.

Cody always thought about what he’d do if met his hero. What would he say? What would he do? What would he wear? But none of that really matters because he’s here now and he’s bleeding.

Cody moves quickly and goes to the drawer next to the oven. He grabs a few more towels and he kneels next to Flex. Cody takes the bloody towel from the hero’s hands and places another one over the wound.

Flex winces and Cody says, “Sorry.” 

“It’s all right, man.” Flex’s voice is deep and he sounds tired. Makes sense. Getting shot and bleeding out in someone’s kitchen must be very tiring. “Sorry about the mess. I saw the window open and I just needed to escape. No one was home so I thought I’d rest here for a while.”

“It’s fine. What happened?”

Cody’s holding onto Flex’s shoulder- putting pressure on the wound. He doesn’t know what else to do. He should probably take him to a hospital. Maybe he shouldn’t move him. It’s only his shoulder so maybe it’s not too bad but Cody’s not a doctor, he shouldn’t decide this himself.

“You should go to a hospital, dude.”

“I don’t don’t have health insurance.”

“That doesn’t matter, you’ve been shot.”

Flex laughs and Cody is confused. 

“I’m kidding. No hospitals. They’ll ask too many questions and they’ll call the cops. It’s not safe for me. I’ll be fine. I’ve been shot before.”

That’s shocking for Cody to hear. He’s seen videos all over YouTube and Twitter of Flex fighting and Flex always wins. Flex never gets hurt. Flex can punch a hole through a brick wall- how can a bullet hurt him?

“Still. We gotta do something about the bullet.”

“There’s no bullet. It shot clean through. See?”

Flex moves- he groans as he does- and shows Cody the exit wound on his back. It’s high enough that it looks like it didn’t hit anything major, but he can’t be too sure.

Flex continues. “I just need to get patched up. I’ll be fine. Got any sewing needles and some thread?”

Cody isn’t sure if he does but he gets up to look anyway. If he can’t find any maybe he could Postmates a sewing kit if he really needs to. He looks in the bathroom but all he has is a box of Band-Aids and a bottle of peroxide. Not much he could do with those but he takes them anyway. The peroxide’ll be useful, the Band-Aids maybe not so much if he can’t find a needle and thread.

He goes to look in his bedroom but he’s out of luck there too. Cody heads back to the kitchen and finds that Flex is gone. A pile of bloody towels left on the floor. There’s a trail of blood leading out the front door. Cody left it open in case he needed to book it. He didn’t and now all he can do is stare out. 

If Flex could move and was able to run out without making any noise, maybe he’ll be fine. Maybe he has someone he could go to. Someone who he trusts more than Cody, who’s a stranger.

Cody stays up all night and checks social media. He keeps refreshing Twitter and searches news websites for any news about Flex but there’s nothing. Nothing but the old stuff. Nothing about him being dead or hurt. Cody doesn’t know if that’s a relief or what. For all he knows, Flex was dead, in a ditch or somewhere where people couldn’t see his body. Cody waits a few more days and still; nothing. He starts to wonder if it was all a dream. But it couldn’t have been. There’s the blood to prove it all. It was real. He’s convinced of that.

Cody stops worrying after the fifth day. He doesn’t stop worrying really but he decides that there isn’t anything he can do so what’s the point. He can’t call the cops. They won’t believe him. And Flex seemed really adamant about not wanting the cops to know. He regrets it a little but what’s done is done.

Cody keeps his window open a little, just in case.

**Author's Note:**

> i wanted to try to make it funny but i kinda took it too serious.
> 
> my tumblr is noelsyellowshirt if you wanna follow for tmg related content


End file.
